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It was supposed to be the start of everything. The next chapter. The grand, beautiful opening act of our future together. Inviting her to move in with me felt like the most natural, exhilarating decision I’d ever made. Our love was effortless, comfortable, the kind you read about in books. We’d talked for months about taking this step, dreaming of shared mornings, late-night talks, building a home. My heart practically beat out of my chest with anticipation. I truly believed she was the one.
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